Peter Parker and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day
by kbj1123
Summary: Same universe as previous stories. As if being lonely and carrying a torch for someone who will not reciprocate feelings isn't bad enough, there's something peculiar blowing through the vents of the SHIELD main building. Notes: I can't possibly stress this enough. This is extremely explicit. Like, it's at least three-quarters of the entire writing. You've been warned


Fanfic Side Story #2

Down the corridor, Vision and Wanda turn to face each other, one hand in each of the other's. They smile into one another, completely oblivious that Peter is even approaching. Peter turns around and heads toward the arboretum instead of the cafeteria after the exchange a very adorable, chaste, kiss.

There are a few people milling around. This is supposed to be a place for regrouping, relaxing a little if you're stressed, maybe meditating if you're into that. But a lot of couples use it for making out. He's seen it at least half a dozen times with different people in the three months he's been at SHIELD since graduating. He plops down to the floor by the waterfall and sighs heavily. Looking up, he sees Captain Rogers on a bench by the lemon tree where Mrs. Rogers usually hangs out. He waves to him.

"Hey there, Peter!" Captain Rogers says cheerfully, walking over to him. "We do have benches right over there. Y'know, so you don't get all wet!" as he takes a seat. He's smiling. He just found out a few weeks ago that his wife was pregnant. In fact, Cap's been in such a good mood that he's even lightened up a little bit when he trains the recruits. Peter sighs again and gets on the bench next to him. Cap tilts his head to one side. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he begins. "Well no, but yeah." Cap laughs. As long as we have that cleared up! Anything I can help you with?"

Peter looks down at the ground. "Maybe some advice?"

Cap rests his forearms on his thighs to see Peter's face. "Try me."

Peter has no idea how to bring this up, or even why. He starts to change his mind. "Why is the entire biological research wing closed off this afternoon?"

Cap shrugs. "Something about a couple vials of some genetically modified pheromone broke. I think it got into some of the vents. I heard it's harmless, but there are protocols they need to follow anyway. Why, did you have your heart set on doing some scientific research today?" He half grins. Peter knows that Cap isn't gonna let it go. Lately he seems to think that everyone should be as overjoyed with life as he is. "Really Peter. Maybe I can help. What's up?"

Peter takes a deep breath. "You used to be, uh, small, right?" Cap knits his brows for a moment and then throws his head back and makes a sound that sounds like a cross between a bark and a laugh. A few people turn their heads in his direction and then go back about their business. He steadies himself and says, without smiling, probably trying to take him seriously, "Yes. I should not have survived past my twenties because of asthma and childhood malnutrition due to poverty. But you're in good shape? Do you want me to help you weight train or something?"

"No," Peter replies sadly, "thanks though. No, what I was gonna say was your confidence always as good as it is now, even though you were like that?" Cap's face softens, as if it has just dawned on him what the problem is. He shakes his head and says, with kindness in his voice, "Nope. Not even after I was changed. Not even until well after I was married, as far as personal confidence."

They sit in silence for a few moments. "How'd you end up with Wonder Woman…I mean Mrs. Rogers?" Cap shakes his head. "I think miracle or fantastic luck; she says fate. No way I ever had the kind of self-assurance Diana or even Stark have about their place in the world. I didn't even really ask her out to begin with. Everything just sorta happened. Why? Is this about a girl?"

Peter sits up straighter and so does Cap. "There was a girl I sorta dated a few times in school, M.J., but she's off at college and we were never really a 'thing.' This person is a *woman,*" he stresses. Cap nods his head without any hint of irony or condescension. So at least there's one person taking him seriously as an adult. "And she obviously is gonna end up with someone else. And he's not even a bad guy, he's great, but…" he trails off, unsure of how to make a comparison. "I'm younger than her. Not by much, but enough so that it's obvious that most of my social life happened in high school, and she's worldlier.

Cap looks genuinely sympathetic. "I wish I could say something that would help. Maybe Tony can, if you're willing to put up with the obnoxiousness that goes along with his advice. I got the girl in spite of my shortcomings and self-esteem. Honestly, I just got very, very lucky."

"Oh hi Peter! What did you get lucky about, my love?" Mrs. Rogers asks, coming up from behind them. Cap stands up and grins happily. He steps around the bench and gives her a hug. "You," he says, and kisses her lightly on the mouth. Mrs. Rogers asks if he's ready to do whatever they were coming here to do. "I hope they get that taken care of soon," she adds, sniffing the air. I know most people don't notice it, but apparently pregnant women notice every smell." She makes a face and winks at Peter. Cap ruffles Peter's hair as if he were a child. Well okay, he's still only nineteen, but that's legally a man. "Good luck, buddy," he tells him. Mrs. Rogers takes Caps hand, and waves her other one saying, "See you Peter!" and they walk off toward the lemon tree.

He'd heard rumors about a run-in between Dr. Banner and Cap that happened a few years ago, over Mrs. Rogers. Dr. Banner is barely back on duty. In fact, the Avengers just returned from a mission and Dr. Banner has been under observation overnight once a week since then. He may be a sympathetic captive audience if he's around. Peter stands up and takes one more look at the waterfall. Mist is drifting sideways. Above it is a large vent blowing and the air actually does smell faintly saccharine. He makes his way toward the biology divsion and infirmary. As he passes by the double doors to Biology, he sees Wanda heading in. "Hey Peter!" she waves.

He startles and his stomach flutters. "Oh, uh, hey Wanda, I was just heading to the infirmary. What are you up to? Are they letting you in there?"

Wanda doesn't answer the question right away. She looks concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, no I'm fine, just visiting someone." She smiles, appearing relieved. Then she informs him, "They're letting me in. I'm the subject for the pheromone test. They wanted to see if different pheromones allow my powers to affect different moods" She smirks and rolls her eyes. Then smiles at him again and continues, "So far the answer is, 'no, not especially.' Anyway, what's up for you the rest of the day?"

He stammers a bit, flattered that she's taking any interest at all. Wanda is his friend. A confidante a lot of the time. But still, his hands get a little clammy and he worries his voice is going to raise an octave. Knowing he's turning a little red, he says, "Visit, then maybe the men's sauna. I do a lot of my best thinking there since hardly anyone ever uses it." She nods and waves before sliding her pass key by the doors and disappearing behind them. He stands there and stares at the doors for a few seconds before continuing.

He sees Dr. Banner sitting up in his cot. Ms. Romanov is in a chair next to him. He hesitates. They look like they're discussing something. He decides to wait a few moments and check for an opening to come in without interrupting. The vent blows that same artificially sweet air more strongly here but they're either ignoring it or don't notice. He hears Ms. Romanov say, "I really missed you, Bruce," and lean across and slightly over him to give him a hug. They stare at each other for a moment, smiling. Dr. Banner says, "How'd you like to grab dinner once I'm out of here?"

Peter doesn't hear her answer because suddenly the floor seems to tilt. He recovers from the vertigo but he is no longer in the infirmary. He's in some fancy restaurant, under a table. Next to him is Ms. Romanov, who doesn't seem to notice him. She's wearing a tight, black dress cut down the front in a wide and low "V" with spaghetti straps over the shoulders. "I found what I needed," she says to the pair of men's legs in front of her. "Oh good," he hears Dr. Banner say back. Confused, Peter sits back on his heels. What just happened?

That very valid question is literally tabled though, because he is watching Ms. Romanov creep between Dr. Banner's legs and slide her hands over his thighs. Weirdly, Dr. Banner doesn't say anything. And Dr. Banner is one of the most neurotic people most others know. Instead he shifts in his seat, giving her better access. Ms. Romanov walks her fingers to Dr. Banner's zipper and undoes his pants. She inches herself so close that her chin is practically resting on Dr. Banner's chair between his legs. "This is definitely what I was looking for," she says, her voice lowering a degree. She pulls out his penis and lowers her head down. Peter wants to look away but can't seem to. He hears a server come by and ask if Dr. Banner or the lady need anything, and Dr. Banner practically growls, "We have everything we need right now." As the server walks away, he sees Ms. Romanov pull back and yank his pants down past his ankles, exposing him. Dr. Banner sighs heavily. She leans in and traces a long, red fingernail down the seam of his ball sack. "Um, Ms. Romanov?" he squeaks. He seriously doesn't want to be here.

Ms. Romanov either doesn't hear him or she ignores him. He peers out from under the tablecloth. The restaurant is filled with men who are dressed in suits and ties, and women in cocktail dresses and high heeled shoes. He hears clinking of glasses, the low murmur of several conversations, and soft music. He scrambles from under the table and sees Dr. Banner quietly enjoying his wine. Actually he looks like he is *really* enjoying his wine, judging by the blissful expression on his face right now. His eyes are lowered towards his lap and is smiling softly. Occasionally he takes another sip.

Under the table, Ms. Romanov is just releasing one of Dr. Banner's testicles from her mouth. She kneels on both knees and lower rubs her cheeks and neck over Dr. Banner's erection the way cats rub against people to mark their territory. Dr. Banner slumps a little further down and reaches his hands out to touch the tops of her breasts. She leans forward a little and he puts a couple of fingers under each strap of her dress, and rips them open. Her dress peels off of her from the center outward. She comes to her full kneeling height and her head is even with his lap. Now Dr. Banner is able to hold a breast in each hand, and he's got one nipple between each finger and thumb. Peter is sure that anyone who looked could easily see what was happening now. She narrows her eyes and smirks up at Dr. Banner before she dips her head down and takes him entirely into her mouth.

"Oh my god, please STOP! At least not in front of me!" Peter exclaims loudly. No one seems to notice him. He buries his face in his hands and the world goes quiet. He opens his eyes.

He's under the table by himself. A host pulls out a seat for a woman, and a man takes a seat across from her. Both pairs of legs are familiar. Peter wonders if he's in Hell and is being tortured by watching the same scene over and over for eternity. He shouldn't have lied to so many people who care about him regarding his spider identity. This is eternal retribution. A napkin falls to the floor right in front of him.

"I got it," Dr. Banner says as Ms. Romanov orders a bottle of Burgundy. He crawls under the table. "Oh no," Peter thinks. "Dr. Banner? Dr. Banner it's me! Hey!" he snaps his fingers under Dr. Banner's nose. There's no reaction. Dr. Banner picks up the napkin and slides himself toward Ms. Romanov. "I have something you want, and I know what I want to eat for dinner," he says mischievously.

Ms. Romanov uncrosses her legs and slips off her shoes. "Show me," he hears her say from above. Peter is horrified and can't look away. Dr. Banner picks up one of Ms. Romanov's feet and places it over the bulge in his pants. He chuckles softly as she slides her toes up and down the zipper. He undoes it and she nestles her foot right on top of him. He isn't wearing underwear. Peter starts to feel a little sick. Then Dr. Banner takes the cloth napkin by a corner and spirals it around and around both her calves, a little bit higher and higher each time. She's got each foot cupped around him and she spreads her thighs out wider. Dr. Banner drops the napkin aside and kneads his fingers into her thighs, massaging all the way up until he needs to rip open the lower part of her dress to get any further…which of course, he does. She doesn't have anything underneath her clothes either.

He hears Ms. Romanov, her voice low and hungry, tell him, "I think you're absolutely right. You have exactly what I want." She reaches down and hands him a glass of very dark red wine. He takes a few sips. Then he dips his fingers into the cup and draws red curlicues on her inner thighs. She makes a humming sound and scoots lower. She presses her feet closer up against Dr. Banner's penis and slides them up and down. "Are you going to have your meal soon? Are you gonna give me what I want, or will I have to take it from you," she purrs.

In answer, Dr. Banner hands her the glass back. Then he brings his head between her legs and in one long, slow motion, drags his tongue along her from back to front. He repeats that motion a few more times. Her hips slowly roll and he presses his mouth closer to her.

At this point, Peter isn't sure whether to turn his head and spare himself any more indelibly marked visions in his brain, or take it in stride and maybe learn a thing or two. He sighs and adjusts himself to sit cross-legged on the floor, only to realize that he's actually more interested than he'd like to admit. He thinks, "Oh hell, why not," and puts his palm over his crotch.

Something smacks him on top of the head and everything goes black. When he opens his eyes again, he is once again in the infirmary room's doorway and Ms. Romanov, fully clothed, has just placed her hand over Dr. Banner's. "I'd really like that," she tells him. "Maybe tomorrow evening?" Peter shakes his head hard. He exhales slowly and takes one step toward them, relieved. Then Ms. Romanov moves her hand to Dr. Banner's chest, and leans in to kiss him. It's just a little one at first, but then Dr. Banner brings his arms up and around her and they kiss more deeply. Peter wonders again whether he's in Hell, he's hallucinating, or the world has just gone nuts.

Ms. Romanov stands up from her chair and strips off her shirt. Then she unzips her tight leather pants from behind and pulls one leg off at a time. Dr. Banner watches, interested and smiling. Actually he looks really happy right now, which in the short time Peter's known him, he has never seen before. Ms. Romanov stands over him and peels the blanket off of him. Dr. Banner hoists himself up to pull his own shirt over his head while Ms. Romanov climbs onto him. He lays back down and draws her head into him and they start kissing again. They look like they're trying to devour one another.

"Well this was way more information that I needed," Peter thinks, and turns to go. Behind the door is only a wall though, not the corridor he'd just come from. He wonders what he could have done to deserve this. He leans on a wall and starts stroking himself. Ms. Romanov grabs Dr. Banner's waistband and starts to pull his pants down. Dr. Banner reaches down and just rips them away. She laughs when he says into her neck, I get them in bulk now, anyway." Then he reaches around and unclasps her bra as she pushes herself against his penis.

As disturbingly interesting this is, Peter once again attempts to make them aware of him. He lets go of himself and clears his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but…"

Dr. Banner and Ms. Romanov whip their heads toward him. Peter is sure he looks like a deer in the headlights. Then both Dr. Banner and Ms. Romanov throw their heads back and laugh, and return to screwing each other. Exasperated, Peter leans back on the wall behind the door and falls backward into the corridor. Without stopping to wonder what just happened, he slams the door behind him and runs back toward the arboretum.

On his way, he crashes head-on into Vision. All concern, Vision takes Peter by the forearms. "Is everything alright? You look very distressed," he says with his cool, somewhat formal British accent. Peter wheezes and takes his arms back. "Thanks. No, just in a hurry. I wouldn't go into Dr. Banner's infirmary room right now if I were you." Vision cocks his head to one side and smiles a little bit. "Of course," he replies calmly, and heads for the Biology division.

The arboretum, thankfully, looks more or less the way he left it. People are meditating, reading, napping…the usual stuff that goes on in here. He glances over at the lemon tree and does a double take. Mrs. Rogers, he's heard, is generally open-minded and adventurous, and he's seen the paparazzi pictures of her kissing her slightly bashful husband plenty of times. So it's a complete surprise that the two of them are completely undressed and, um… doing it right now, against the tree. He's leaning on the trunk and holding Mrs. Rogers from behind. Her arms are around his neck and her legs are around his waist. Their foreheads are touching and they both look completely enraptured. To be fair, that's a little less surprising than the previous few scenes he's had the misfortune to witness. Even though he's pretty straight-laced (until now), Cap and his wife are almost always obviously affectionate with each other. Peter actually finds himself a little jealous of what they have. "That," he thinks to himself, is what real love looks like. Well, inappropriately expressed at the moment, but clearly it isn't just the sex that's putting those expressions on their faces. They are lost in one another. He turns from them figuring he's had enough excitement for one day.

The sauna is dark and completely empty. The heavy steam is still slightly sweet from whatever happened in the biology division, but nothing else is here to disturb him. Switching on only one overhead light across from the sauna, he wraps a towel around his waist and sits down. He leans on a bench and closes his eyes. The steam starts to melt away the tension he's accumulated by bearing witness to things no one really should ever have to see. He's even forgotten, until it comes to mind again, that this all started when he wanted advice from just about anyone about the torch he's been carrying for Wanda. She must be with Vision by now. He wonders if they're engaged in some kind of debauchery right now as well. That seems to be the thing to do today. At least for everyone but himself. He gives in to feeling sorry for himself. Letting go of that denial, no longer holding back of emotion, also seems to help relax him. "It's always okay to feel," Mrs. Rogers once told him. It was a conversation about homesickness, and not allowing it to interfere with his responsibilities. "Feelings are safe. They're healthy. You get sick if you deny them expression. It's HOW you express them that is important to consider." He smiles to himself, just a tiny bit. Cap's really, really lucky if his story from earlier is true. He closes his eyes and allows the wet heat to envelop him. The bands around his wrists, which always have a supply of webbing fluid, are a little loose from the steam.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Wanda's voice startles him awake.

"Uh, Wanda this is the men's sauna." She's in a towel and standing in the doorway, letting cold air in along with that chemical smell that's still in the vents.

"The women's one is out of order. Do you mind?"

Peter sighs inwardly. "Sure, knock yourself out," he says, closing his eyes again. He feels her sit down a few inches away from him.

"Ugh, that smell is really concentrated in here. Rough day after all?" She asks.

"You could say that."

She doesn't say anything, and the pause in conversation has a visceral tension in it. "What about you," he finally asks.

"Yeah kind of. Can we talk? Are you up to an emotional dump?"

Without smiling or lifting his head from the tile wall behind him, he replies, flatly, "Sure." He knows by now that she's going to try to analyze something that happened with Vision.

"I like him an awful lot, but it's not easy, y'know?" she begins.

"No, not really," Peter responds, hoping he doesn't sound too annoyed that she doesn't even notice how he feels. Still leaning on the wall, he turns his head to look at her. Her dark blonde hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun. The steam makes her face almost glow. Her high cheekbones, delicate nose, and sharp chin look sculpted in this light. He'd be a little less miserable right now if that's all of her that he saw. She's got a white towel wrapped around her under her arms. So he can see the steam lift off her bare, perfect shoulders and her clavicles. He watches a drop of water roll from the hollow of her throat, down her chest, and under the towel between her breasts.

"Well, he's not entirely human and he's not really meant to do certain things, I guess," she continues. I mean, he knows HOW to do stuff, but I'm not certain he really understands what any of it means. I think he's going through the motions because he knows it makes me feel good."

Peter shrugs and pretends, despite Mrs. Rogers' advice, that he isn't feeling jealous. "Well, he wants you to be happy. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

She shifts around to face him. She looks earnest. "I want him to want ME, and to be a little selfish about it. It's pretty sad when you know your boyfriend isn't really physically interested the ways you want him to be. Does that make sense?" She leans in and puts a hand over his. Something somewhere between his heart and his stomach uncoils. He relaxes a little bit.

"Sure," he says. "I know a thing or two about unrequited passion. It sounds like he's just not passionate with you."

"Exactly!" she exclaims. She scoots closer and takes his other hand. Their feet are touching and their thighs are separated only by their towels. "I need passion. I need to be with someone who really wants me."

Uncomfortable with where this is going, since he is quite aware that it won't be the direction he'd like, Peter moves his foot back. She moves hers to follow and hooks her ankle around his. Her eyes are wide. He watches sweat droplets roll from her temples, past her jaw, and pool in the hollow notch of her throat before making another journey down past the towel. He tries to wish away his own body's growing interest and swallows hard. "So, uh, what is it that you want to do about it? Are you breaking up with him?"

Wanda inhales slowly and deeply. The towel expands with her chest and loosens slightly when she exhales. "No," she says definitively. Peter exhales too, not quite sure if he's disappointed or relieved. "But I need passion right now. I want someone to want me badly. Before he can form a complete thought to respond, she reaches over and pulls the towel off of him. He ought to be more upset about this than he is, he thinks to himself.

Wanda presses her palm to Peter's chest. "You have a beautiful body, has anyone ever told you that, Peter?" He can't find his voice so he shakes his head "no." She tilts he head and traces the muscles of his abdomen. "I know you like me, I'm not oblivious," she says softly.

"Wanda I really like you a lot," he starts. Wanda smiles and brushes the top of his very erect penis with the back of her hand. "I know," her voice lowers half an octave.

"But, um, I don't really want to get into it with Vision. I mean, it'd be one thing if you guys weren't together, but…"

"But right now, he's not here, is he?" She stands up and leans her shins against the bench between his spread legs.

"Well no…" Peter stammers. She looks flushed and her eyes dart between his face and his crotch.

"That's right, he's not. You are," she sounds like she's just told him he got a test question right. "So, I know I can count on you."

He takes another steadying breath. "But you don't feel that way about me," he counters as evenly as he can. Yeah, I think the moon revolves around you, but you're not leaving Vision." He decides that he can be a little angry with her. Setting his jaw, he looks her in the eyes and accuses, "You'd be using me, and I'd end up hurt." Proud of himself for having any blood flow at all to his brain considering the situation, he stands up to go. She steps in front of him, blocking his path.

"I never said I didn't want you. I said I wasn't dumping Vision. Being with one person doesn't mean I'm blind to other possibilities, or that I don't feel lust."

That throws him for a loop. "Lust?" he repeats. "No Wanda. I don't think you're feeling anything other than needy right now." Strands of her hair stick to her face and she's practically shining in the low light of the room. He really wishes he didn't read the situation as accurately as he is.

"Lust," she insists, and puts her hand over his heart.

He pulls himself up taller. Astonishing himself, he stares her straight in the face and tells her, sternly, "Prove it." He grabs her towel and tosses it aside.

Wanda doesn't even flinch. She stands perfectly still. Sweat slicks all over her breasts, her hips, and her thighs. Without taking her hand away, she holds his gaze. "Peter Parker, I want you. I want you to put your hands on my breasts. I want you to shove your tongue into my mouth. I want you to shove that big, hard cock of yours into my mouth. I want to fuck you hard and push my hands against that hard little ass of yours and force you into me as deeply as…"

He is dizzy and nearly shivering with want despite the heat in the enclosure. He grabs her by the waist and presses his mouth to hers, interrupting her. She groans loudly and kisses him back, prying his mouth open with hers. She thrusts her tongue past his and sucks hard. This can't be right. This day is just not right. He pushes her away. "I don't believe you."

She looks surprised and as if she might cry. He softens his expression. It's the only thing about him right now that is even close to soft. "Wanda," he says, "I don't think you know what you're doing right now. Today I saw…" he doesn't finish the sentence because she is starting to cry.

"Peter please," she nearly whimpers. "If we both want each other what's the problem?" He's not sure what to say for a moment. He suspects that a few minutes ago he had a reasonable answer to that question. Something warm has wrapped around his erection, like a soft, invisible hand caressing it. "Are you doing that?" He asks. It was meant as an accusation but it comes out as more of a gasp. "I want you so much," she replies. "Any way you want me, please, Peter." She doesn't drop the invisible hold on him. He cups his hands along her jaw, meaning to wipe tears away. He really meant to do that. So it's almost as much as a surprise to him as it is her when some other urge takes over. Instead of wiping tears, he steps in and kisses her firmly again. She presses against him.

He wraps an arm around her waist, crouches down, and jumps straight up. His hands and feet hug the ceiling and she lays flat on him. She looks scared. "*Any* way?" he demands.

She nods her head slowly. Peter grabs one of her wrists, extends it past her head, and shoots webbing around it. He repeats this with the other wrist and both of her ankles, spread-eagling her to the ceiling. Her eyes are wide and uncertain, but she's smiling. He's never done this before. Like, NEVER, done ANYTHING with a naked woman. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks he should be a lot less decisive about this. But her undulating hips and perfect, upside-down breasts inspire confidence. He crawls underneath her and kisses her again. She lifts her head to meet him, and opens her mouth wide. She practically cries again when he breaks it off. He leans around and bites her earlobe, and then slides his hands along her slippery breasts. As he holds them he puts his mouth on one, making her cry out. He works his tongue around the nipple until it is small and hard. Then he repeats the process with the other one.

"He touches his torso to hers and glides up to face her again. Her breasts press into his chest. "Passion and lust, you say?" She nods her head vigorously. Her breath is fast and labored.

He feels his way down her entire body with his mouth and hands. Without thinking twice, without any doubt from never having done it before, he opens his mouth along the length of her vulva and closes it around her clitoris. She cries out and pushes into his mouth. He moves his head away and looks up her body. She cranes her neck forward. "Are you feeling passionate yet," he sneers. It's like watching a movie of someone in his body. But the physical sensations are what push and inspire him right now. She nods her head. She looks like she's struggling to speak. She manages, "I want you. I've wanted you since I met you. I waited two years and then I tried not to think about it because…" she trails off. "I don't remember why."

Peter lowers his head between her legs and swallows her again. He continues while that invisible force once again takes hold of him and slides itself all around his head and up and down his shaft. Then he looks up at her and says, "You remember exactly why. You met the gentleman half-android. She squeezes her eyes shut. "Say what you want, Wanda," he commands. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh god I want you! Peter I want you to fuck me and I want your hands and mouth all over me! I want your tongue inside me while I get you off with my mind and then I want to work you back up so you'll fuck me again!" He lowers his head to her yet again and the invisible, soft hand wraps around him and moves up, down, and around him more quickly. He lifts his head from her and groans when he climaxes, leaving her thrusting her hips into empty air.

Taking his time, invisible fingers still stroking him to half-erect, he crawls back up to her. He crawls until he is straddling her head. "Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck your mouth?" She nods her head. "I want to taste you. I want to swallow you up," she whispers. He lowers himself a few inches. She reaches up with her neck and sucks in his head, making him hard again. "More?" he asks? She nods and he lets her take him completely, down into the back of her throat.

The air is thick with steam and sickly-sweet scent. It envelops them and he holds perfectly still while she swirls her tongue around him. He lifts in and out of her, letting her press the tip of her tongue into the small "V" under his head before she takes his entire shaft again. He doesn't warn her when he comes, and her eyes pop open as she swallows. Her entire body writhes helplessly when he pulls away. Then that same warm, soft invisible hand wraps around him again. "More?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "I need you to fuck me," she whispers. He straddles her and slides his torso over hers again. He lifts one breast at a time to his mouth again, circling each with his fingers and tongue in rhythm with the invisible hand until he is harder than he has ever felt in his life.

Again without warning her first, he enters and she cries out from a place somewhere deep inside of her. She wriggles and slides around him uncontrollably as he pushes deeper and deeper until her entire body buckles and shakes, and her insides squeeze around him. She practically screams as he finally releases into her.

He suddenly feels sick, and vertigo overtakes him. One moment he was pressed up against Wanda and the next he is falling, spinning much further than there is distance to the floor. He yells out her name but no sound comes out.

Peter knocks on the open door to Dr. Banner's infirmary. "Hey am I interrupting?" Ms. Romanov is sitting in a chair next to Dr. Banner's bed and they are talking quietly. He is holding her hand loosely. "No, not at all, Peter!" Dr. Banner smiles at him. Ms. Romanov gets up. "I'll let you guys talk. I'll see you later Bruce." Peter takes two steps in and stops cold, looking around the room. "Are you okay?" Ms. Romanov asks. Peter shakes his head hard. "You know what, it's fine. I'll catch up with you later," he blurts out, and briskly walks out of the room.

He heads into the arboretum. Under the lemon tree, Cap and his wife are sitting quietly. Mrs. Rogers is in lotus position with her eyes closed. Cap sits cross-legged next to her, also with eyes closed. Her hand rests gently in his palm as they meditate together. He's sure something was happening here that was off just a while ago. He writes it off to a bizarre and strong sense of deja-vu and heads back feeling inexplicably confused. He shouldn't have said anything to Cap at all. He's sure he's just embarrassed, and that was why he changed his mind about talking to Dr. Banner after all. At least he knows Cap will keep his secret safe. He notices that the air has no particular smell to it at all anymore.

Peter walks down to the main lobby feeling inexplicably exhausted and ready to call it a day, even though it's barely lunchtime. A few yards ahead of him, Vision has his hand on the small of Wanda's back as he holds the door open for her with the other. Through the glass door to the lobby, he sees them smile warmly at one another and take each other's hands.

Dejected and lonely, Peter shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He notices that his web fluid canisters feel light, as if they'd been emptied.


End file.
